“Of course not. We just needed a little break. Work has been crazy, and I need a few days off.”
“Not in the middle of a grant process. What in the hell is going on?”
She released a long breath. Andrew had helped her with the initial query about the grant and continued to assist her. He’d been so encouraging and thoughtful. He deserved a better explanation, but she couldn’t say anything with Julian sitting next to her.
“It will all be there when I get back on Monday. And I’ll be fresher and ready to go.”
“You’re not saying something,” Andrew said in a low voice. “And maybe you can’t right now. But Monday, when you get back, lunch, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll check my schedule, but that should be fine. Thanks for calling, Andrew.” And before he could ask anything else or probe deeper, she clicked End and handed the phone back to Julian.
“I didn’t realize you were such good friends with this man, princess,” Julian said, and the anger in his voice was palpable. She pressed back into her seat.
“He’s very kind, Julian. And he isn’t involved in any of this.” She waved her hand between them. “He’s not the type, and I need some of those friends too.”
“Why? Are the submissives in the community not enough?”
She was pushing him, and she knew it. But she also knew things were off between them, and maybe giving him this truth would be enough. “They aren’t, Sir. Not really. They’re too protected, too careful, they have to have permission for everything. I need something more than being in the community, spending time with those kinds of friends. It’s why the Loft means so much to me. I need more than the lifestyle. And the other submissives? They have no freedom in their friendships. They’re always looking back at their Doms and making sure it’s okay.”
“Not all Doms are that controlling,” he answered, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was almost hurt by her words.
“No. They aren’t. You’re not. You’ve given me a lot of liberty in my outside relationships…” she paused and then pressed forward, “…and I’ve given you a lot of liberty in yours.”
She was poking a bear and probably shouldn’t be. Julian made the rules, and what he did outside of the two of them was his business. He’d been honest about that part of him from the start. And she’d agreed to it because he took such good care of her. She constantly reminded herself she was the only one who wore his collar.
But sometimes, late at night when he’d come to bed after being with other people, her jealousy clawed at the inside of her like razor blades. He’d roll her over and take her from behind without a word, and she’d wonder if she was just an available pussy and not anything more.
“You need more?” His voice was cold and distant, making her want to reach across the chasm between them and hold him tight to her.
“Not sexually. Not like that. Just…” She waved her hand vaguely in front of her.
“Are we renegotiating our situation, sweetheart?” he asked.
She wanted to answer yes. Wanted to demand they review their contract and amend it to take out sharing. But she couldn’t. Because for all that she wanted it to be just them, she knew he wasn’t built that way. A hard limit on monogamy would force him out the door. He’d said as much when she’d first come to him. So instead she shook her head.
“No, Sir.”
He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel for several moments. “Well, then, I think it might be time that I get a little stricter about these liberties I’ve given you.”
“Julian…”
He lifted one finger, and it was enough to stop her from saying anything else.
“You earned those liberties because we established trust and honesty between us. I suspect you haven’t been honest with me, and so I cannot give you these liberties anymore. You must earn them back.”
She looked at her hands clenched in her lap.
“Is there something you want to tell me now, little girl?”
“No, Sir,” she whispered.
“All right then. We’ll table this discussion. But know this, Morgan, I will have it from you in the end. Whatever you’re keeping from me, I will work it out of you sooner or later. Until I do, you’re not to spend time with anyone alone without my approval.”
“But…”
“No. That’s my hard limit right now. I want to know who you’re with.”
“Yellow,” she whispered, and his brow winged up.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve used any of your safe words. Does it make you that uncomfortable, princess?”
“Yes. I don’t want to have to ask you to spend time alone with someone.”
“Then prove to me that I can trust you. Tell me what you’re hiding.”
She shook her head.
“Ah. We’re at an impasse then. But you only said ‘yellow,’ not ‘red.’ So tell me what you’ll agree to that will make you more comfortable with my decision.”
“Andrew is a friend.”
“Has he ever inquired about you? Made overtures?” His voice was deep and low, the authority of it zipping along her spine even if she was frustrated by their conversation.
“No. He’s not that kind of friend. I told you. He’s outside of all of that.”
“And I told you that it’s my job to protect my little girl. So now, what will make you comfortable? How do you propose I continue to do my job when it comes to you?”
She gnawed on her lip. She knew Julian enough to see he’d win this round regardless. That was the thing about him, what drew her to him from the start. He was so certain in his rightness about everything. He’d never wavered, never flinched at his decisions. He never lost an argument, even when she went in knowing he’d been wrong, he managed to solidly explain why he wasn’t, why his way really was the smarter way. It was both infuriating and intoxicating, his unflappable certainty.
“I would like to spend time with my friend Andrew when I want. I’ll tell you if he makes any overtures toward anything beyond friendship, but otherwise, he is one of the few real friends I have, and I want to keep him.”
“You have Kathryn,” Julian said.
“She works for me. She doesn’t consider herself my equal. I love her, and she’s so important to me, but she was my student first. There will always be that dynamic with us.”
Julian stayed silent as he pulled onto the dirt road that led to their cabin. Even now, in the dead of winter, the sight of the place filled Morgan with joy. It was secluded deep in the woods, a frozen lake behind and no other cabins for a few miles. Julian had surprised her with it on the one-year anniversary of him collaring her.
He parked and came around her side, opening the door and drawing her out as he always did. She shivered as the winter wind whipped against her face. Ely was colder than the Twin Cities. She snuggled into her short down coat. Julian pinned her against the car and cupped her cheeks to give her a deep kiss. She whimpered and opened for his thrusting tongue, letting him devour her until she was almost dizzy with a need for him.
Finally, he pulled back and looked at her hard. “Okay. You may continue your friendship with Andrew, and I trust you’ll tell me if he’d like it to go beyond friendship.” He dropped his hand and slid it along her hip, teasing the skin above the waistline of her jeans. “That’s not something you will indulge in without my permission.”
She nodded. She wanted to spit his words back at him. She’d never indulge in anything without his permission, but there was a burning part of her that hated that Julian did. That he indulged in whatever and whomever he wanted, and never asked her permission.
“You’re being defiant, little girl,” he said, pinching her hip. “I can see the fire in your eyes. I’d ask you to explain, but you’ve made it clear you will not. Which means I’ll have to mete out your punishment based on my own judgment.”
Her breath caught when she heard the word punishment. She felt needy and desperate in a way she hadn’t since th
e night of her spanking. Julian had a way of working her over at the cabin that managed to get her completely out of her own head and into a space of being present. Every smack, every crack of the flogger, every tight bind on her wrists and ankles, helped release her worries and allowed her just to feel.
He laughed at the glazed expression on her face. “You’re going there already, little girl? Already dropping into subspace? Yes. I’m definitely glad I insisted on this little holiday.”
Chapter Seven
“How many?” Julian demanded from behind her.
“Eighteen, Sir,” Morgan replied, dazed and breathless. Her whole body was on fire. Julian had been flogging her with different toys for the past half hour. They were in the cabin basement. The playroom Julian had built for them. She set her forehead on the silk sheets beneath her¸ hoping the material would cool her skin. It did not.
“Two more,” Julian commanded. “Count them out loud.”
“Nineteen, Sir,” Morgan said as the sting of the crop landed again. She was drenched in sweat, and the room smelled like sex. Julian had devoured her with his tongue the minute he’d positioned her on all fours, lapping at her until she’d begged him to let her come. But he refused, instead pulling out various floggers and presenting them to her.
He dragged two fingers through the slippery folds of her pussy, and she cried out in need. He thrust his fingers deep inside her, and she bore down to stop the orgasm threatening to overcome her like a pending freight train.
“Please, Sir,” she begged again. “Let me come.” She stared at the dark maroon sheets, her pale forearms contrasting with the blood red color. She rocked forward and then back, trying desperately to gain more purchase against his fingers. She needed…more. Two fingers wasn’t enough. Not this time.
“No, little girl. Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and smacked her hard with the crop again.
“Twenty, Sir,” she whispered and collapsed onto the sheets beneath her. She couldn’t hold herself up any longer. Her ass burned, and her pussy ached so badly she wanted to sob.
“That’s my girl. My sweet princess. You’ve done so well.”
Julian flipped her onto her back and spread her legs wide. Morgan couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to. Only needed him with a desperation she couldn’t verbalize.
“Please,” she whispered as he drove two fingers into her again. “Fuck me, Sir. Please.” She lay on the mattress like a rag doll, her entire body limp and pliable.
Julian was sweating too. Through the haze, she could see his dark skin glistening, sweat beading on his shaved head and dripping along his forehead, his eyes black with desire. “I love when you beg, little girl. But we’re not there yet.”
“Anything. I’ll give you anything. Just please, Julian.” She planted her feet and used all her remaining energy to lift into his fingers, her fists gripping the sheet at her sides.
Julian added a third finger into her tight channel, stretching her farther. It felt so fucking good. She loved when he did that. His cock was huge, but when he used his fingers, scissoring them inside her, he filled her even fuller.
“Please…” she whimpered, uncertain if the word actually left her lips. Her pussy gripped at his fingers, willing them deeper.
When Julian added a fourth finger, she almost lifted off the bed. His digits were thick and full and shoved relentlessly into her up to his palm. “Open wider. Breathe, baby girl.” He set his thumb against her clit, but didn’t stroke it like she wanted. God, she missed this side of him. The side that wasn’t careful or controlling, the side that seemed just as desperate as her.
He positioned her feet on the mattress so she could thrust up into his fingers. So thick. Her body ached, teetering on the edge. “I can’t take anymore. Julian. Sir. I need…”
And then, before she could start begging again, he tucked his thumb in with his fingers, stretching her farther. She gritted her teeth against the sensation of being filled so full.
Julian thrust his fingers in and out, faster, harder. With each plunge he reached farther, until the largest section of his hand almost breached her entrance.
He grabbed her knee with his free hand, pushed it wider, and slid his whole fist inside her. She screamed. They’d done it before—fisting—but it had been a long time ago, and only once, on a night he’d come home ragged and desperate for her, his face a mask of excruciating want. She’d loved it, but the aftercare had been intense. She’d been so blissed out by the brutality of it she’d nearly fainted. Her orgasm had lasted so long she burst into tears.
Now her screams echoed around them as Julian twisted his fist the smallest amount inside her. She was begging and screaming and sobbing and couldn’t hold on to any one point. With his other hand, Julian brushed over her clit, and she lost it completely. There was no holding back the orgasm. She’d suffer the consequences, she couldn’t wait any longer.
It was a cliff dive into the most amazing feeling she’d ever had. It went on and on and on, and when she finally landed, her voice scratchy from her screams, all she could feel were Julian’s arms, his soft voice soothing her, the smell of him all around her.
“That’s what you needed, wasn’t it, baby girl? That’s what you needed from me.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, curling into his chest like a tight ball.
She felt him freeze. Oh God. She was too groggy to look at him, her throat too dry to take it back. She slammed her eyes shut against the humiliation of what she’d blurted out. His hand gripped her tightly. It had been the wrong thing to say. She was sure of it. A deep wash of shame slid over her. She was too exhausted to backtrack, too dazed to explain, so she let him tuck her in and wrap himself around her, and she fell into a deep restless sleep.
•●•
Julian needed to move. He couldn’t stay in bed with her any longer. He slid his arm from beneath her head, tucked the dark sheet and blanket around her, and went upstairs to the kitchen. He’d make her some dinner for when she woke.
Daddy.
She’d never said that before. And he was at a loss as to what to make of it. He wanted it. Jesus. With a desperation he didn’t even understand until the moment it’d slipped from her lips. It’s why he’d chosen her, cultivated her. She was his little girl. He couldn’t lie about his fetish, not this far into the game. And it wasn’t an incestuous dirty-old-man fantasy. It was the deep need inside of him to mean that much to her. To have her look at him like he was the only man in the world who would and could ever take care of her.
He knew his own shortcomings. His appetites were voracious, and there was rarely a line he wasn’t willing to cross, and he’d long tried to protect her from that by playing with others. But he’d do anything for her, and the thought that she saw him that way, even in her hazy moment of post-orgasmic subspace, made him fill with pride. He was her Daddy, and he would fight anyone for her.
As he sautéed vegetables on the stove, he called Kathryn.
“Tell me about Andrew,” he said as soon as she picked up.
“Don’t. Julian. Just don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
She sighed. “Don’t bring him into your game with Morgan. He’s not that way.”
Julian laughed. Kathryn had figured out the two of them from almost the beginning. On her third day of work, when he was escaping Morgan’s office after eating her for lunch—twice—Kathryn confronted him.
“So she bottoms for you?” she’d asked, her face fresh and inquisitive.
“Do you know what that means?”
She rolled her eyes. “I do have an Internet connection.”
“Then yes. She does.”
“She flew out of here like a bat out of hell last night. Didn’t even remember to shut down her computer. I take it you called?”
“Yes. She comes when I call.”
Kathryn nodded. “Is it okay that I don’t really approve of this? I’ve known people in that world, and it never ends well.”
“It has
ended well for us,” he said.
“I’ll withhold judgment for now. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not for me. But I don’t want your disapproval spilling over onto her. I’ll find a replacement if you don’t think you can keep your mouth shut.”
“It’s your business. And if she’s into it and it’s all consensual, I don’t give a shit. But I wouldn’t be caught dead dropping my whole life because some guy texted me for a booty call with a spanking bonus.”
He laughed at her frank honesty. “You’d be surprised, Kathryn. But as long as my business—which includes Morgan—remains my business, free of judgment, then I frankly don’t care what would get you to answer a booty call.”
“Okay, boss.”
And that had been the end of it. Until now.
He cleared his throat, swiping his hand over his shaven head. “I’m not bringing Andrew into this. I’m curious about his interest in Morgan.”
Kathryn huffed on the other line. “Then you should be asking Morgan, not me.”
“Jesus, you women and your sisters-before-misters code. I’m trying to protect my interests here.”
Kathryn laughed. “Well, I might have told you something until you pulled a dick move like calling Morgan ‘your interests.’ You can save that sort of thing for your dungeon, mister. I’m not falling for it. All I’ll tell you is that Andrew is a good guy and a good friend to Morgan, so maybe you can just back off of that.”
“Infuriating women,” Julian mumbled, mixing beef in with the vegetables. “Fine. But it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you suggested to him that pissing me off isn’t the best way to keep his job.”
Kathryn snorted. “Ha. I piss you off all the time, and you’re still not allowed to touch me. I don’t really get how your domination world works, Julian, but it seems to me that Morgan is definitely the one with a whole shitload of power when it comes to the Loft.”
“She has a whole shitload of power when it comes to everything,” he answered softly.
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